Endgame
by Kiritsubo
Summary: To want what you can't have, to grasp what you can't touch, to claim what isn't yours.
1. A Sleight of Mind

**Disclaimer For All Chapters: **Bleach is the property and creation of Tite Kubo; this work does not make any profit and neither does the author claim ownership over publicly recognized characters.

**Warnings: **language, mild sensuality

* * *

You stand behind Aizen's alabaster throne, watching him and Gin. They are sitting across from each other; a marble table and a chessboard are the only things between them in this grey room. Gin has the ebony, Aizen has the ivory.

"Your turn, Gin."

"Eh…" Gin frowns as he surveys the board. "What a weird form of shogi_." _

In a mocking gesture of thought and repose, he rests his cheek against a curled fist as he studies each piece. There is a slender figure bearing a cross, another with an odd pointed helmet, and yet another resembling a horse's head. They are faceless entities standing upon a checkered world and subject to a player's whim.

"In the living world," you hear Aizen say, "this is a 'western' version of shogi_, _with a few differences of course. But the objective is the same."

To demonstrate, Aizen points to the tallest figurine on the board. "This is the king, who can move in any direction but only one square at a time. He is the weakest and the most precious piece in the game. Lose him, you must forfeit."

Again, you see Aizen's finger move, going in sequential order by the pieces' rank. The queen, the bishop, the knight, the rook, the little pawns that lined in front of their king. The chess pieces dully gleam under the white light, motionless as each of their respective functions are outlined by Aizen.

"That still doesn't make any sense, ya know," Gin's saccharine smile twitches, "why make the _queen _your most powerful piece?"

You see Aizen smirk. Leaning back into his throne, he rests a hand against the armrest and lets the other appendage be the pedestal that balances his temple.

"Would you care to explain, Ulquiorra?" You hear.

You see Gin look up from the board. His trademark smile is stretched across his lips and it only grows wider as you approach the table. Although the former captain does not, and will not, admit this to you—your gaze unnerves him.

You know this because you once heard him comment to Aizen that out of all the Espada, you had the most unusual eyes.

"Grotesque, ya know," You remember Gin describing them as Aizen listened in amused silence. "One look at him, any human would be scared shitless."

Once you reach the table, you look down. You see your reflection on the polished surface. The artificial light hanging above you casts a harsh relief against your features, making you look statuesque. Your deadpanned expression reflects your indifference to your appearance.

You bend down, observing the board.

You know the rules.

The queen can move in almost any direction across the board but there were certain caveats. You noticed this when Aizen had first introduced the game to you. As long as the board was open and the opposing king was vulnerable to attack, that was when the queen was most useful. Otherwise, it was no different than a bishop or a rook.

"The queen is not the most 'powerful' piece in the game." You explain. "It is simply the one with the most moves and positions available than all other pieces."

"But that doesn't answer my question," you look up to see Gin grinning, "why make the queen more powerful than its king? Kind of unfair on the guy, don'tcha think?"

"How can a chess piece have power?" You ask in turn, not understanding him. "Even if you were discontented with the queen's role, you're still the controlling force behind it. Where the piece is to move next or strike is entirely up to you."

"_Ne, _Ulquiorra, you really take stuff _literally _don't you?" Gin says. Drumming his fingers against the edge of the table, he leans forward, picks up the black queen, and begins twirling it around.

"See, _cuatro, _the rules of the game are pretty clear…even if _I _controlled this little thing," Gin lightly shakes the queen, "'still doesn't change the fact that she has more power than all of them." He gestures to the other pieces on the board.

You cock your head slightly to the side. It is beyond you why Gin continually refers to his queen as "she." Why place a pronoun onto something made of metal? Something that had no soul?

"Why would that matter?" You reply. "Rules or no rules, you will always be in control of the pieces."

"But what would happen in the game," Aizen coolly interrupts the exchange, "if there was one exception?"

The question lingers in thoughtful silence and as you ponder, all of Aizen's pieces float off the chessboard and levitate in the air, suspended by spirit particles.

"Assume these are individuals instead and the common rules in chess still apply," you listen intently, "as Ulquiorra illustrated earlier, what can one do, to remain the controller of each piece even if they can move by their own volition?"

"I don't think he can answer that." Gin comments. "Espada can't think that deeply, ya know."

You spare a glance at Aizen, only to see the flicker of a gleam in his eyes. Though they don't reveal it, he and Gin are curious to see whether you grasped the meaning behind the banter. Analytical and focused as you are, Aizen knows your limitations.

You don't. At least, not yet anyway.

"How can one control a queen who can move on her own?" Aizen asks, deciding to intercede after all. You watch him reach out and grasp the white queen in his hand. The tip of his finger traces the ornate crown, bumping along one ridge after the other.

"Simple." Gin smilingly replies. "You break her."

"But that would make her useless." Aizen smoothly counters. You notice now, that he glances at you as if to make sure you were paying attention. "We still want her to be viable in the game, don't we, Gin?"

"Break her from the _inside_, then."

"Perhaps, or more specifically, her spirit. Her will to fight and escape."

"And what if the queen's stubborn?" Gin asks, giving you a knowing look that you don't acknowledge.

"Yes, that would be a problem, wouldn't it?" Aizen trails his finger down the long curve of the figurine. "But there are alternatives to manipulate and control an individual no matter how strong or 'stubborn' they are."

Once Aizen lets go of his queen, you watch it float away until it reaches its proper place beside the king. Once joined, the royal couple separates from its entourage and begins to circle each other in a slow orbit.

"Give a captive even the smallest sign of hope, the smallest gesture of kindness, they will seize upon it and do whatever you ask," says Aizen, watching the pieces revolve. "Even if they won't survive, they will obey…so long as they are led to believe that they have a chance to live and have the sympathies of their jailor."

At this, you see Aizen give you another sidelong glance.

"A show of kindness and compassion, even under false pretense, makes a prisoner more malleable than outright punishment and cruelty."

"You get more flies with honey than vinegar," Gin summarizes.

"Do you now understand?" Aizen inquires without looking at you.

For the briefest second, you pause. In theory, you know your orders and their ultimate purpose but _somehow _it seems that there is something missing piece to all this. But instead of asking for clarification, because such a thing is so unlike you, you lower your head and say: "I understand."

You can't see it, but Aizen smiles and whatever meaning is behind that malicious curve is elusive.

"Good. Now, if you don't mind, Gin and I have a game to finish."

Detecting the finality in his voice, you take a step back and with a turn of your heel, you vanish.

Just like that, you're no longer in the room.

You're not there to witness the conversation that takes place after you are gone.

You're not there to hear Gin remark that he knows you didn't understand and Aizen replying that he shouldn't jump to conclusions, that not all Arrancar were as predictable as he hoped them to be.

You're not there to see Gin move his pawn forward and answer that he believes you won't get the meaning of the lesson.

You're not there, to watch as Aizen takes Gin's bishop with his rook and finally tell Gin that it didn't matter whether you understood or not. Either way, he might as well as have some enjoyment while the little ward was here.

* * *

Every other day, you check on your prisoner.

This isn't done out of concern or sympathy. It's done because Aizen needs her alive. What use was a corpse to him anyway?

When she first came, you installed her in a chamber just a hallway from yours so you could reach her within a short distance. While you didn't chain her, you suppressed her reiatsu anyway, by having the walls lined with a material that blocked spirit particles. To you, she is chattel that has to be kept unspoiled from the Arrancar trash that roamed Las Noches.

You stride past a series of corridors and columns to reach your destination, all the while digesting Aizen's words. The girl is an important piece in the game and one that could be easily controlled so long as certain precautions were taken. _Your _task now, was to provide Aizen the strings to marionette her next steps.

The closer you approach her room, the more you reflect on her.

A week before, you had your first glimpse of Inoue Orihime. You had seen her from a distance, on the outskirts of the park where Yami and the boy had made their pathetic battleground. You watched her, capturing everything with that brilliant green eye of yours like an uninterested photographer.

Irrational and incompetent, ultimately disposable.

But that initial analysis quickly reformed once she displayed her powers.

Yes…that had changed things. It certainly made the situation a little more intriguing, if only for a little while. As long as the girl remained the apple of Aizen's eye, she was yours as well. Temporary, as that may be.

When you reach her room, the wardens outside her door let you in immediately. Grasping the long handles, they pull the doors apart, allowing light to spill into the dim room.

You see her there, kneeling before the barred window with her gaze fixed to the moon. The lighting is so poor that you can barely detect the color of her sweater and her bright hair. But when she turns around to look at you, you see the faint glimmer of her hairpins, tucked just above her ears.

"Get up." The words come out of your mouth without introduction, let alone a warning.

Strangely, the girl doesn't move.

You too, remain where you are. How odd. She had been cooperative all day yesterday. Why was she being so insolent now?

"I won't ask you again."

Still, nothing.

It's not until you advance towards her that Orihime rises from her place and looks at you, face-to-face. Being small, she is forced to lift her neck to meet your gaze and once she does, you notice something wrong with her expression. There is no servility or a sense of detachment there, only fear and confusion.

_Break her from the inside, _Gin's suggestion echoes in your mind.

_Or more specifically, her spirit, _Aizen's voice seconds.

Her spirit…

You wonder, had Aizen meant her actual soul or had he spoken in the proverbial sense?

It's within Aizen's interests to keep the girl alive and it would have been irrational to "break her spirit"—an action that would kill her. But what other spirit was there, than the one residing within her body?

You stand a few feet away from the girl and though there is nothing between you, a rigid silence is already in place. It isn't until a maid arrives to deliver a new set of clothes that you decide to force an opening through the wall you've built against Orihime.

"Change into these." Your eyes flicker to the clothes. "Your present garments aren't suitable."

You see her glance at the new vestments then traverse the room in a few steps and lift the dress out of the servant's hands. You hear her murmur a thank you to the maid but the courtesy is not returned. Folds of soft white fabric flutter beside her thin arms and as she examines it, you notice that she does it with a hesitant and reluctant eye.

"You _will_ wear it," you say in a non-negotiable tone.

Yes, nothing escaped your eye, did it? You had seen everything—her delayed response, her hesitation, her uneasiness. It tells you the girl has the desire to say _no. _

You take one step forward.

She takes a step back and releases a brief but weighty exhale.

You stare into her face, expecting her to be cowed and look away. But when she holds the gaze much longer than you intend, it dismays you. You wonder then, how much you underestimated her obstinacy. But just as that thought came, it leaves when you see her turn away.

The effect is immediate.

Her lashes lower. Her cheek whitens because of fear or some other strong emotion. You sense that she is upset but by what, you aren't sure.

_A show of kindness and compassion, even under false pretense, makes a prisoner more malleable than outright punishment and cruelty, _Aizen's voice reminds you from memory.

Kindness. Compassion.

To you, these words describe something abstract, something that the eye can't see. They are as foreign to you as a Hollow is to an ordinary human. You're reluctant to admit it but you're unsure how to approach this situation.

The girl suspects nothing. All she sees is that hard, impassive face of yours and though she has only known you for a brief time, she already knows not to seek comfort in you.

Quite frankly, you preferred it that way.

But did it really matter what you felt? To do as you wanted was to disobey, and to disobey was to commit treason.

After a while, you decide to talk, this time in a lower voice. You're still brief and to the point but your tone is better.

"You won't withstand the cold if you insist on wearing what you have now," you tell her matter-of-factly. "Unless you want to freeze, take what we give you."

Your eyes linger on her hands. It was a simple law of physics: to every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. You had made the first move and now all you had to do was wait for hers.

A few minutes later, your patience is rewarded. One by one, you see her fingers curl against the fabric until they are completely enwrapped into the dress. She doesn't say anything but it doesn't matter. You don't need her to talk.

Satisfied, you turn away.

"Wait."

You stop. Your neck twists around to see her still clutching the dress.

"I…" Her mouth opens to speak but nothing coherent comes out. You watch her struggle and feel your patience wear thin with every passing second. Finally, she asks you:

"How long am I being kept here?"

For a second, you entertain the idea of giving her false hope. It certainly is a move that Aizen would want you to make but being the tactless and unmoved Hollow you are, you decide to give her no assurances.

"Until Aizen-samais done with you."

You expect her to say something or maybe get upset but no, she surprises you a second time. She is calm and quiet at this revelation. You watch as her features relax into a look of resignation and when you look into her eyes, you see it. She _knew_. She knew all along that Aizen had only temporary plans for her and that her likely fate was death. She knew this entire plan—the kidnapping, the coercion, the twelve-hour grace period—had been a deception.

Then, yet again for the third time, she does something unanticipated.

"…thank you."

The words are enough to make you turn to fully face her.

" 'Thank you'?" You repeat with a trace of disdain in your voice. "What exactly are you thanking me for?"

She pauses for a moment then meets your demanding gaze.

"For telling me the truth."


	2. Authority

At some point, you don't know exactly when, you notice her features are very symmetrical. Had you been a man who appreciated beauty, you might have been pleased with her delicate looks. But you're no human. You're something that exists in the _form _of a man. It's true that you were mortal once but that was in another lifetime. Even if you tried, you wouldn't be able to remember anything from your previous life.

Orihime, however, seems to be convinced that you can.

Twice, she tries to engage you in conversation and twice, you shut her down.

Knowing she gives up easily, you're satisfied when she stops trying. Now, she seems to spend her hours constantly looking outside of her window, as if the sky itself was her only solace. If this was what humans did to amuse themselves, they must have been incredibly dull.

But you don't offer her companionship and neither does she, at least not anymore.

You were her jailer and she, your captive. A distinct bold line, a line that should never be crossed, was drawn between the two.

Unfortunately, you're an unknowing participant in an experiment where Aizen wants to see what happens when that line is smudged away.

* * *

"I'd like to ask you something." Orihime says to you one morning.

Today, the sun is unusually bright. The light shines through her barred window and streaks the carpet in white. She is sitting on the sofa, absent-mindedly fingering the cushions around her. The hem of her white skirt is just dangling above the floor and moves as her hands stroke her kneecaps.

You say nothing.

Instead, you continue to gaze at the wall, preferring to look at that than answer her pending question. It seems you were mistaken. You were under the impression that she didn't want to talk to you but apparently that's not the case.

She should have known from your stance that you had no wish to converse but being someone who didn't understand subtlety, she asks you anyway.

"What happens to hollows when they die?"

You close your eyes. What inspires her to ask these sorts of questions is beyond your reasoning.

"We cease to exist." You respond at length. It isn't the most imaginative or comprehensive answer but it's the shortest.

"I know but…" She trails off.

"But what?" You turn to her. "Nothing 'happens' to the dead. Their existence is simply finished."

"And the soul?" Her eyes fixes upon you. "What about your soul? Don't you get a second chance to live and redeem yourself?"

" 'Second chance,' " you repeat, "nonsense."

"Not if you're purified by a shinigami." She counters. "And when you are, you can go to Soul Society—"

"My place is here."

Orihime falls silent. Exhaling, she leans back into the sofa. Her hair sprawls over the sides, turning into a mess of auburn strands. Slowly, she turns her head to the sun.

"This is a desert," you hear her murmur, "it's…hell."

"Hell," you echo, "and what is the difference between here and the living world? Or even Soul Society?"

At this, she sits up from her place. From the way she looks at you, you can tell what she is about to say: that there were many and obvious differences between heaven, earth, and Hueco Mundo. Neither realm was even remotely similar to her.

"I don't understand," she says.

"Of course you don't." You answer. "I didn't expect you to."

"Then explain," she demands. Her eyes seem to harden with skepticism.

"And what use would that be?" You say in turn. When she doesn't answer, you go on:

"You humans have such narrow and defined notions of what heaven, earth, and hell ought to be. What makes Hueco Mundo so different from your world and Soul Society? Both have just has much as violence, instability, and corruption as this desert does."

"The living world and heaven are _nothing _like this place." She contradicts you a second time. It isn't surprising to you but it is still irksome whenever she displays her splendid obstinacy. Somehow, in some way, you would have to get rid of that.

"What of the Rukongai?" You coolly challenge. "Did the poverty and corruption in those districts escape your notice while you were there? Is that what you call heaven?"

"No one destroys souls there," is her quiet reply.

"You're ignorant." You tell her. "Souls can be destroyed in Soul Society too. All it takes is one selfish individual who knows how to use a weapon."

"How would you know?" She asks. "You've never been there."

She is right. Your soul never had the chance to enter the gates of Soul Society or even glimpse the magnificent wall that separated the Rukongai and Seireitei. Instead, it had spent an indeterminate amount of time in Hueco Mundo, devouring one Hollow after the other to satisfy an insatiable hunger.

"Yes," you acknowledge, "but Aizen-sama lived in Soul Society for centuries and has seen all its faults from within. If Soul Society was really an idealistic heaven as you think it to be, he wouldn't have found reason to defect."

Now, Orihime rises from her sofa.

"He still would have left even if it was the perfect place," she whispers, "all he wants is power and nothing else. He killed and hurt…a lot of people to be where he is today."

"Much is to be risked in war."

She turns away. "He put my friends in danger."

"And the _shinigami _you call 'friends' continue to decimate the Arrancar, my brethren. You cannot peg either side as good or evil. It doesn't matter how you look at it. For every act one commits, the other negates it. They are both equally at fault."

For a moment, it looks as if she wants to say something but after a long moment, thinking the better of it perhaps, she stays quiet. But instead of basking in the silence of her defeat, you step back and walk out of the room.

A drawn-out banter is, after all, the last thing on your mind.

* * *

Whenever Aizen requests Orihime to be brought to him, you follow a certain procedure.

First, you send Loly and Menoly into Orihime's room. Second, you have a maid come in as well to help undress the girl. Third, you make sure you the girls observe the process in order to check for any concealment of weapons. Finally, after Orihime is done, you enter the room and take away her hairpins.

The first time, as she had done with the clothes, Orihime parts with them unwillingly.

"You don't have a choice," you tell her, outstretching your white hand.

With great reluctance, the girl cedes. Carefully, she takes them out. You watch as they glide down her long auburn hair and see the ends slip off them. When she gives them to you, the pins make a dull clink.

At a glance, you see that they're made of some cheap metal, hardly durable. The crystal petals aren't even real but fashioned out of faceted glass. To see that this was Orihime's equivalent of a zanpakutowas not only laughable but humiliating. How could so much power be condensed into such little things of scarce value?

"Will I get them back?" You hear her murmur.

"After Aizen-sama concludes your meeting," you reply.

The girl does not look reassured.

"Please take care of them," she beseeches you, "they were a gift from my brother."

This is the phrase you hear from her, almost every time you take away the trinkets. It's a tedious task and done only for the sake of protocol. It's unnecessary. You know that because the girl isn't a viable threat to Aizen. But you do it anyway because orders were orders.

Loly, your most cumbersome subordinate, is particularly vocal about them. The first time you delegate the task to her and Menoly, she starts complaining.

"Like hell I'm serving _her_!" Loly spat. "She doesn't need to be watched—as if that puny thing could harm Aizen-sama_—" _

"You'll do as you're told," you cut across her. "It doesn't matter whether you like it or not."

"She's a human." Loly snaps, twisting around to look at you. Her pigtails swing furiously behind her from the movement. "Arrancar don't wait on humans—it's the other way around."

"Loly!" Menoly says, reaching out to touch her sister's shoulder.

"Don't you get it?" Loly retorts, jerking her arm away. "Look at us! We're the ones who bring that _thing—_" she pointed to the closed off entrance "—her food and guard her door every night! We're no better than maids!"

"Loly_._" Menoly pleads.

"Aizen-sama would _never _let us serve that piece of trash!" Loly suddenly turns to you. "So who are you to order us to—"

"_Enough._"

Both girls stiffen in fear.

The quiet lasts for a few seconds then all of the sudden, your reiatsu is unleashed_. _

It's only a tiny portion of what you really have but it's enough to bring Loly and Menoly to their knees. For one as powerful as you, your spirit particles are thick and condensed. When controlled, they can be as oppressive as a heavy wall that's being pressed on top of your opponent's chest.

You watch the fraternal twins pant and struggle for breath then after a long minute has passed, you temper your reiatsu and retract it.

The girls tremble then one by one, they fall to the floor, unable to stand.

You gaze down at the worthless heap and knowing they can still hear you, you tell them: "Doing your duty to me is doing your duty to Aizen-sama. Any disregard for that is the same as betrayal and betrayal means death."

Loly raises her head. Beads of sweat stud her forehead and her lips are parched as though she had spent a day in the desert heat. She looks at you, only now in terror.

"Do you understand?"

Defeated and humiliated, Loly lowers her eyes. "…yes…"

Menoly too, nods.

And with one swift turn of your heel and a swish of your robes, you're gone. As you leave, you fail to notice the terrible look on Loly's face. Unbeknownst to you, you have planted a seed of malice into her already blackened heart.

* * *

"I've heard something rather…unsettling…Ulquiorra."

At this, you raise your head. You're in the grey room again, observing Aizen and Gin playing a new game of chess. At first glance on the board, it looks as if Aizen has the upper-hand. Already, he has half of Gin's pawns and both of his knights.

"It seems that Orihime isn't warming up to you as I'd hoped."

At this, Gin smirks. "I _told _you he wasn't the right person for the job."

"I asked you to be courteous to her." Aizen addresses to you, in that casual voice that assumed nothing was wrong.

You do not answer. Although there is no outward show of it, you can sense Aizen's displeasure from the way he has his back turned to you and in his tone. From experience, you know that it's best not to interrupt, not to say that you don't understand. Aizen would give the answers himself.

"Companionship," Aizen tells you without turning around in his chair. "I asked you to give her companionship, Ulquiorra."

In the corner of your eye, you see Gin watching you through his slit eyes. He isn't smiling but you can sense his keen interest and amusement at the whole situation.

"Becoming her friend is the only way you'll be able to unlock her weaknesses. Please remember that." You hear Aizen say.

"She is unhappy when I speak to her." You admit.

"Who wouldn't be?" Gin's eyes narrow. "Make yourself more _friendly _and _nice. _Didn't I say that—"

"—you capture more flies with honey." You repeat, already knowing what Gin was going to say.

Aizen leans his head to the side. After some moments of thought, he seems to have made up his mind. "Perhaps you can initiate something." He suggests. "Find out how she received her powers. See if you can find out who or what was responsible for them."

"How's that relevant with anything?" Gin asks, rolling a bishop's head between his index and thumb. Looking up at Aizen, he says, "I thought she was just bait."

"She is," Aizen confirms, "and while she is staying with us, we might as well examine what she has…and it would give Ulquiorra a topic he can discuss with her."

"_Healing _powers," Gin yawns, looking noticeably bored.

"Time or spatial reversion." Aizen corrects him. "She's no ordinary human after all. What she has, Gin, is something that violates the very order of nature."

"But nothing you can really use." Gin points out, deciding to traverse his bishop five squares along. "Check."

At this, Aizen smiles. Without turning, he addresses to you specifically: "Leave nothing unchecked. The more we know about her, the closer we may be in exploiting the ryoka…something that will be handy once everything is in place."

"Understood."

"I expect," Aizen cautions as you move toward the doors to leave, "nothing but the best from you. Win the girl's trust, you gain a beneficial advantage against Kurosaki Ichigo."

You pause. An advantage? What was the necessity in that? As far as you're concerned, Kurosaki is not a danger to you. You know what he really is: a foolhardy boy who was playing shinigami_. _That pathetic adolescent had barely been able to keep his reiatsuin check during his fight with Yami.

"Don't be fooled." Aizen's voice floats by your ear. "He has more potential than you think. You must always remember that, Ulquiorra."

And no sooner after he makes his warning, Aizen returns to his game, having his knight jump over four squares before it knocks Gin's bishop out of its place. Just one more conquered piece to add onto his growing collection.


	3. Wonderwall

You're at her door again.

You know what to expect behind this solid wall of limestone. She's probably sitting on the floor again, gazing at the moon and basking in its cold comfort of light. Then she'll turn to see you and rise up, waiting and watching for your next word.

And just as you're about to signal the wardens to let you in, you stop.

_This is a game. _

You of all people know that Aizen's favorite method of execution is illusion. Like the chess game he once described, you're one of the pieces who believe he is moving on his own. But you know who has the real power in this scenario.

He _wants _you to befriend her—why?

Why?

It surprises you that this thought crosses your mind as its very existence means you are questioning Aizen. You doubt him, the infallible one. It isn't that your faith has been lessened. You just find the logic behind your orders to be faulty. If having an upper hand against Kurosaki was supposed to be the incentive, there was no point. You didn't need an advantage against so weak an adversary. Perhaps Aizen is lying to you so as to appease your mind and silence your questions.

But you're better than that. Fooling you is as difficult as teaching a man how to fly without wings. You are a Vasto Lorde, more than a common beast enslaved to a master. You can think for yourself and you have something what most Hollows in Hueco Mundo lack. You have _a choice _and so far, the decisions you've made have worked in your favor.

There are only two options: disregard or obey.

If you do the former, Aizen would discover your indiscretion and have you punished for it. A severed limb (as it was in Grimmjow's case), public humiliation, imprisonment, and death were several possibilities. In all scenarios, your rank and power would be demoted.

If you do the latter, it would go against common rationale. After all, in the grand scheme of things, what did it matter if you won the girl's trust or not? There's little benefit in the outcome but one saving grace: your position—and possibly your life—won't be at stake.

It's not hard to see which one is the better choice, even if it contradicts reason.

_But…_your hand wavers ever so slightly.

You don't like the idea of playing Aizen's little game. Do you even have a choice? You're just a servant after all. This self reminder strikes a soft blow to your pride, bringing discomfort and a sense of disquiet with it. No matter what happened, you were subject to Aizen and Aizen alone. It was not a mere fact but natural law; there was no way going around it.

Slowly, your wrist falls from the door. The wardens gaze at you with uncertainty, unsure whether or not you want to come inside or not. At last, you turn away, walking in the opposite direction.

Meeting with the girl could wait.

And though you don't know it yet, you've had your first taste of disobedience and what it's like to go where angels fear to tread.

* * *

A week drags by.

What Orihime does in that spare time is of no interest to you. Generally, when you pass her chamber, you hear nothing.

But on one unremarkable day, you hear a most unexpected and almost extraordinary thing: she is singing.

You stop and listen, confused by the sound. Singing is the last thing someone in her place would do but the song you hear isn't joyous. There is a definite melancholic quality to the melody and several times, you hear her waver then stop abruptly as though she had choked back into her throat.

You step back.

Gradually the pupil of your left eye dilates, widening further and further until it completely encompasses the green iris. The walls of the chamber gradually fade in your sight and through the granite and white marble, you see her.

She is lying in her bed, wearing a flimsy nightshift that humans change into when they are about to sleep. Her hair is in disarray and one of her pins is askew, lost in a sea of auburn.

She is crying.

Her brows are pinched together in anguish and her features are streaked with tiny little rivers of salt water. They stream down her sloping cheeks and drip down from the ends of her lashes as she weeps into her pillow. Her mouth is moving, murmuring strange lyrics to a song you don't recognize. She recites it as though she has sung this many times before. The rhythm is slow and methodical as a lullaby, only it doesn't seem to calm her in the slightest.

A fresh onslaught of tears drowns out the last verses.

"_What am I going to do?" _You hear her choke at the dark, after her crying subsides a little. _"I'm so scared…what if I don't…what if I can't…" _

But what exactly Orihime doesn't or can't do, is unclear. After that, she stops talking and drifts off to sleep, drained by her emotional upheaval.

You're left with nothing but the sound of her quiet breathing.

You close your eyes.

When you open them again, you see nothing but the reflective surface of a white wall. Your face looks back at you with the same indifferent expression.

For the first time, it dawns on you that she may have had another reason in coming here after all. Her private misery spells out an ulterior motive. You thought she came here for her friends but it seems she also has a plan of her own. A mission of some sort, but one that caused her such fear that it had reduced her to tears.

Your gaze shifts from your reflection to the girl beyond the wall.

_One way or the other_, you quietly vow, _I'll find out the truth. _

_

* * *

  
_

"…you said your brother gave them to you."

Orihime looks up, surprised.

It's evening. The moon has already risen and is half shaded by shadow, providing little light into the room. She is kneeling by the sofa, resting her arms against the edges of the cushioned seats. A straight, diagonal crease appears across her covered chest as she turns to look at you.

"What?"

"Your hairpins." Your eyes flicker to the said objects. "You said your brother gave them to you, didn't you?"

"Yes…" Orihime warily answers.

She's suspicious. Having rebuffed her attempts to talk for so long, she probably finds it strange that you're initiating a conversation.

"Then is he the one who gave you your power?"

"No."

"Then who was it?"

She pauses. "I don't know."

You say nothing. The awkward silence that follows is deafening. What else was there to ask? You did what you were told to, hadn't you? You inquired about her powers and she tells you she doesn't know. Of course, Aizen never took uncertainty as an answer.

"You're lying."

"I'm not." She shakes her head.

Fine. If the girl hadn't a shred of knowledge as to who granted her powers then perhaps pinpointing an exact time could give you a better idea.

"When did you receive them then?"

"Last fall," she answers you carefully, "but I don't understand why you're asking me these questions."

"Aizen-sama wants to know where your powers come from," you say in a flat voice.

"Why?"

Now it's your turn to hesitate.

"That's none of your concern." You reply at last.

From the way Orihime looks at you, you see that she isn't buying your lack of an explanation. Nonetheless, she obliges.

"They appeared out of nowhere," she recounts softly. Her eyes mist with nostalgia. "Tatsuki…my friend…she and I were in a courtyard. This Hollow appeared but only I could see it. Tatsuki couldn't and tried to fight it. That's when this light appeared." Her hand reaches to gently touch her left hairpin.

"So your powers first manifested when you and your friend were in danger."

"Yes, I think that's one way to put it but now that I think about it…"

The girl twists her body around. Her eyes are on you but they seem to be elsewhere at the same time. She is no longer in this room but in another place and time, immersed in some memory of the past.

"I didn't start seeing things until Kurosaki-_kun _and Kuchiki-_san _saved me." She confesses.

"What did they save you from?"

"My brother."

At this, you turn to face her.

"He became a Hollow." You hear her murmur. "He tried to attack me but then Kurosaki-_kun_ came."

Slowly, just slowly, you see a faint blush bloom in her cheeks.

"I see." You say. Though you don't know the exact details, it's clear that Kurosaki was indirectly responsible for her newfound abilities. The encounter had left the girl forever changed and, in a way, more vulnerable than she had been as an ordinary human. You even decide to remark on this enlightenment:

"Are you angry with him?"

"What?"

"Are you angry with him?" You repeat. "Do you resent Kurosaki?"

"Why would I resent him?"

"Because he's the reason why you're here."

The girl looks startled as though this idea had never entered her head before. But after some moments pass, you begin to see her expression change from confusion to one of deep reflection.

"No," she says at last. "No. I'm not angry with him at all."

She tells you this with such conviction that it almost wants to make you laugh.

"He expanded my world. I can't be mad at him for that."

"He's the one who put you at risk. He may have come for you once but he won't do so again. Not this time."

"I don't want him to come for me." Orihime says, cutting across your deceit. But this in itself could have been a lie. Surely she still had some selfish hope of rescue.

Your eyes harden. "You know you won't get out of Hueco Mundo alive."

A long quiet ensues.

Somewhere in the desert, you can hear a low wind brush through the bare branches of a dead tree. The moon remains fixed in the sky, unmoved by your announcement of Orihime's impending fate. But instead of being frightened into silence, she rises from the floor and tries to stand as tall and stately as she can. With the dignity of a martyr, she gives you a sad smile.

"I know." You hear to your disbelief. "I knew that from the moment I said yes."

"Aren't you afraid?" You taunt back.

"Yes." She admits. Her irises catch the moonlight, making them appear opaque in strange and pretty hues of blue-grey and white.

"Is this what you came here for?" You step towards her. "To die?"

"I came here for my friends." She responds with great candor.

"But you're afraid."

"Everyone is scared of dying." She whispers, her face growing brighter as the moonlight shifts from her eyes to her cheeks. "But I think there are worse things to be afraid of than death."


	4. Tests of Significance

She's lying.

Under that noble pretense of hers, there's more to the story when a young girl leaves her entire world behind without regret. By nature, humans are creatures wired to think for their survival and are driven by the will to live, to seek fulfillment. So what was the gain for _her _by coming to Hueco Mundo with you? This is the question you think of when you look at her. Every time you gaze into those stubborn grey eyes, you ask her again and again, watching for any sign of change.

"I asked what you came here for." You say without preamble.

"I'm _not_ lying."

"I know what you said."

"Then why don't you believe me?" The girl demands.

"Because I know you came here for your own self."

Orihime turns white with indignation but before she can protest, you continue.

"To die for your friends," you say, "is not an act of courage but desperation. It is something one does because they are powerless and have no viable alternative."

"No," Orihime says with a tremor in her voice, "no. You're wrong. You said you…you'd kill my friends if I didn't come with you."

"What proof did I give you that I'd kill them?" You ask in return.

The girl is mute, unable to reply. In truth, you had only provided her live images of her friends _fighting_. Not dying. She was the one who interpreted the threat as something inevitable, a fate that would occur if she didn't act fast to prevent it. There had been no reason for her to fear him or view the threat as credible.

"But…" Orihime begins, confused.

Her brows are creased in an agitated line and her eyes narrow as she is trying to process your question. In actuality, you gave her half the truth. _You _weren't going to be the one to kill the humans. Aizen had made it perfectly clear that, aside from Kurosaki, exterminating the ryokawas a duty fit for Espada ranking five and below, not above.

"I'm going to ask you again." You threaten. "Lie to me, I'll summon Loly and Menoly to take care of you accordingly."

Expectedly, Orihime flinches at the sound of those names.

"You didn't come here to save your precious nakama._" _You turn around to face her._ "_So what's your real purpose?"

You bear down on her. Under that unrelenting gaze of yours, you watch her resolve wither. She backs up against a wall and when she realizes she has nowhere else to go, she slides down to the floor, mortified into telling the truth. The seconds drag by, one after the other, until at last you see her lips part.

"To get stronger," she whispers, "I came here to get stronger. Because I…" she buries her face into her hands "…I didn't want to be a burden anymore."

"To whom?"

She looks up. "Everyone." A glassy film covers her eyes.

You don't understand. How did her coming to Hueco Mundo fulfill her wish to grow stronger? Now you almost regret asking her these questions. To grow stronger, she says, is what she wants. How alike she and Kurosaki were. Surely the similarity didn't escape her notice.

But, at last, she has given you what you want. The perfect moment has finally arrived and it's now or never. There is no guarantee of when a chance like this will happen again. Either you do your duty or you walk away from it. It's as simple and fleeting as that.

_A show of kindness and compassion, even under false pretense, makes a prisoner more malleable than outright punishment and cruelty._

Yes…this is what Aizen had meant.

You stand still, feeling the pulsing invisible force the walls give off. But this isn't energy; it's a container to seal off power. The walls were built from the same material used by Soul Society for their high-security prisons. Of course, such a prison was not designed to withstand an Espada.

"Ah!"

Startled, Orihime tries to regain composure then gradually, her chest stops heaving and relaxes into a calm, measured pattern of breaths. Confused, she raises a hand to her right ear then touches the left. She exhales again, sensing that there has been a sudden change of pressure.

Then, in an uncharacteristic move, you kneel down to her level.

Orihime leans back and stares at you in surprise. This is the closest you have ever been to her and hopefully it would be the last time. Her already wide eyes grow even wider when you reach out for her hairpins and slip them off, one by one. Dumbfounded, she watches you stand and shrinks back as you tower over her. Overturning the palm of your hand, the crystal ornaments fall to the floor.

_Clink. Clink. _

Without so much as a warning, you bring down your heel. A silvery dust trails behind your boot as you step back and all that's left of the hairpins are shattered glass and bent metal. Orihime gapes at you, horrified by what has just occurred. She looks into your face for an explanation but you don't give her one. Instead, you head for the exit and it isn't until you reach the door that you say something.

"Your reiatsuis no longer restrained. By the time I return, I expect you to have them fixed."

Orihime listens in baffled silence but when she tries to protest you cut her off.

"I expect you to have them fixed." You repeat.

"But…"

"Do as I say."

"But how can I…but you just…_why?_" Orihime breathes out. "_Why _did you break them?"

You pocket your hands into your white robe and drag a pensive pause for about five seconds. You aren't planning to tell her the truth, not like last time. You are going to make her believe that you are sympathetic to her situation and have a sincere wish to help her. You are confident that this charade will work because as perceptive as Orihime is, she has a blind spot. She is too trusting of those around her, particularly those who show benevolence.

"The true extent of your will and power is only revealed when you recover from a weakened state."

You turn your head for the briefest glimpse. She's holding what's left of the hairpins in her hands and when she finally looks at you, she says nothing. There is nothing more to be said because you both have reached a platform that seemed impossible to reach.

Understanding.

* * *

The next day, after you inform Aizen of all recent developments, you are rewarded with a nod of approval and some words of caution.

"It won't be long until Kurosaki comes." Aizen warns. "By that time, I trust you'll obtain the necessary information."

You remain silent out of respect and submission.

"As for Orihime…"

You raise your head, awaiting the next order.

"…I'm curious to see how far she can go."

* * *

It doesn't take long for you to start doubting Orihime's capabilities.

The girl's progress, in short, is dismal. Even after three days, she hasn't been able to restore her weaponry. Aizen himself seems to have erred in judging her potential. Her powers are supposed to violate God's realm and yet they seem so insignificant compared to what hollows and shinigami can do. By nature, her power is almost exclusively defensive. She has one offensive move and even that was weak in comparison to a shinigami's course, that is something you are working to change, and in all fairness, Orihime _is _trying.

But not hard enough.

She can sweat and cry all she wants but until she gives actual results, there is no point in taking her to the next step.

You keep your distance though.

Instead of directly observing her, you glean tidbits of reports from a sulky Loly who occasionally updates you on "the human."

"Found the brat on the floor again." Loly grumbles. As usual, Menoly accompanies her and has relegated herself to fade into the background while her more vocal twin continues to speak.

"I don't know what that bitch is doing but its draining her energy." Loly retells. "I hope she dies soon." She adds in a nasty voice.

"The girl," you say in a tone that spells out warning, "is your responsibility. If she dies under your care, I'll know exactly who to punish."

Loly pales in terror. Her reaction proves time and time again your initial assessment of her. For all her talk and abrasive front, you know she's just lowly trash. Maybe this is why Grimmjow refuses to have subordinates, knowing they would only be a nuisance and hindrance to him.

After that, Loly is even more reluctant to share any news about Orihime with you. When she does, she provides minimal detail and seems to have repressed the impulse to make snide comments altogether.

Several days later, it is Menoly who delivers a much more favorable report.

"She sleeps all day." Menoly regales as you sit at your table in contemplative silence. A glass chess set is before you. The pieces reflect what little light is in the room and blurred impressions of the walls but it is their transparency that captures your attention. You can see through the pieces as you can see through everyone.

And what can be seen and touched have real existence. The proverbial heart, free will, feelings, and moral conscience….these things do not exist as they are unseen and intangible. For all their futile attempts to place intrinsic value onto their lives, humans are just like these chess pieces. Empty. Soulless. Meaningless.

They are nothing.

"She…eats well too." Menoly says in an awkward voice as if she doesn't know what else to talk about.

"I don't care about such things."

"There's nothing else, Ulquiorra-sama_._" Menoly says, insistence creeping into her voice. "Really, she doesn't do anything except brush her hair a hundred times a day and put on those hairpins."

Your eyes flicker toward Menoly at the remark but you say nothing. Instead, you rise out of your chair, having heard enough of her ramblings for one day.

"Ulquiorra-sama_?_"

Wordlessly, you walk out of the room and head into the hallway. The twins stare after you but stay where they are. They know not to follow you unless you order them to do so. You don't stop until you enter the prisoner's chamber and find Orihime exactly as Menoly had described.

She is in bed, curled in her blankets and looks thoroughly exhausted. Of course, this is all that you see. You don't know how many hours she has sat on the floor, trying ever so hard to restore what you destroyed, how hard it was for her to summon her innate powers without encouragement. All she had to rely on were ghosts of her friends who reminded her that she was special too, that she was strong and could achieve whatever she wanted.

And right there, just above her left ear, is the unmistakable glint of a perfect glass flower.

* * *

"Where are you taking me?"

You don't answer. Instead, you let her trail behind as you walk across the sand dunes. The wind today is low but by evening, its speed would pick up. By now it's late afternoon which doesn't give you a lot of time.

Orihime follows you in silence but that alone is enough to keep you satisfied.

She trusts you. She trusts you enough to not question your actions. But your "act of kindness" as Aizen would call it, is just manipulation and it is working beautifully. Gin's proverb of attracting more flies with honey seems to be an appropriate description for the current situation. You can already tell that she considers you an ally, a secret friend she can count on.

You don't stop until you reach a grove of caverns. There are many of these things in the deserts, serving as pockets of shelter for wandering Hollows. Nnoitra in particular is responsible for the destruction of over seventy of these caverns northwest of Las Noches; a record he proudly holds to this day.

The caves look empty. They are all around you, these eyeless sockets in the sand. The birch trees are bare and stand stiffly near the border like silent spectators fixed into the ground. You hear occasional murmuring and a low growl but nothing more. You know the Hollows are hiding and it won't take long for them to sense the presence of a human soul—the thing they craved the most.

"Why am I here?" Orihime asks, sounding frightened.

"So I can see what you're capable of." You answer with your eyes on the caves. The monsters are growing restless. You can hear them emerging from their hiding places and inch their way outside.

"I don't understand." Orihime says. When she hears a terrible noise, she swiftly turns her head to determine where it came from.

"They're coming." You tell her, and so they do. Like cockroaches, they roam out of their caves and scatter across the sand. They are all different, none sharing the same mask or likeness save an insatiable hunger for souls. Their mouths open, click, hiss, and groan at the sight of Orihime. They are hungry; you know how tantalizing the scent of her untainted soul must be to them.

Orihime steps back but realizes that she is surrounded. There is no way out. In desperation, she looks to you for help but you do nothing. You are being merciful, really. In a real setting, she would have no one to turn to and it was up to her to fight for her life. She _has _to understand that.

You wait for her next move.

A second later, you see a golden prism encase her form. The hollows howl at the bright light and for a while it seems her shield is working; it is repelling them from coming near. Some even retreat to their caves. But the larger ones prove to be resistant and soon, they are circling around her, waiting and watching.

When her energy runs out, Orihime decides that it's best to run and hide. After some time, you grow bored with this cat and mouse game and finally decide to step in.

In one fluid motion of your hand, you swipe at the Hollows, sending a thin yet powerful lash of reiatsuat them. The monsters groan in pain at the contact and before their bodies hit the white sand, they dissolve into nothing. When all the Hollows are gone, Orihime's shield melts away into nothing, leaving her vulnerable and open as before. But as you step towards her she keeps her eyes fixed to the ground as though she were ashamed.

She has every reason to be. If she can't contain a handful of lowly Hollows, it's painfully obvious that it will take a miracle for her to defeat an Espada.

"You avoided fighting them."

"I was protecting myself." The girl softly replies as a hint of a blush sweeps across her cheeks.

"You didn't even try."

"I…" Orihime bites her lip.

"I see why your friends feel the need to defend you so often." You flatly observe. "You're useless in battle."

She winces, taking the comment as insult but she misunderstands you. Social grace is something you have never learned or understood. Unlike Aizen, you don't mask your words with human mannerisms to soften your thoughts when you express them aloud. You say what you think and see.

"Shields won't win a fight." You tell her matter-of-factly. "Yours in particular are fragile. They won't last against an Espada."

The girl unhappily nods in agreement.

"You run, you hide…and when you try to attack, you go in without thinking." You say, remembering how she threw herself in front of Yammi to protect Kurosaki. You come closer to her until her shoulders barely graze the front of your shirt. She is fragile, this human. She is not strong enough to handle what you are about to tell her.

"No one is going to save you." Your eyes flicker to her face, watching for a change of expression. "The only person who can is your own self. Not your friends."

Orihime makes a little gasp as if you have just doused her with ice cold water. Her large eyes widen in shock then lower, aghast. Ever since she was granted these powers, for whatever reason, she has used them sparingly and poorly. She relies, and still does, on the strength of her friends instead of her own. She is too optimistic about their abilities and conversely, she underestimates her own potential. But that has to change. After all, isn't that why she came here in the first place?

She must learn to think on her feet, to trust her instincts.

She is more than just a healer.

She is a fighter.

That's when you see it, a flicker of steely determination in her eyes. It spurts and twinkles behind her transparent irises like a flame flaring into life. Already, she looks more alert.

After a long, contemplative silence, she finally asks, "Can you take me to another place like this?" She gestures to the caves.

"So I can watch you run away from the hollows?" Disdain is in your voice.

"No." You hear. "So you can see me destroy them."

She doesn't look away when you gaze down at her.

"…very well."

The hem of your white robes whips around as you turn on your heel and amble deeper into the desert. The girl follows you, walking a little faster to keep up with your long strides. But there is a definite change in her disposition now. She is quiet as ever and obeys without complaint, but now gives off a resolute air.

Silently, you wonder about this dangerous fire you have ignited in her but even still, you fail to recognize the possibility that one day it will be too much for you to control, and in the end, consume you.


	5. Skin Deep

Weeks pass.

Kurosaki and his worthless companions are nowhere to be seen in Hueco Mundo. But you and neither Aizen complain about their absence. You, in particular, have a reason to appreciate this. Like a plant that has adapted to harsher conditions, Orihime's powers are thriving, and they are doing so without her friends' help.

Under your wintry yet effective encouragement, she is beginning to master and create her very own offensive moves. Twice, she has been able to manipulate the shape and nature of her shields. No longer serving as geometric, protective barriers, they can now be whatever Orihime fancies and are able to strike hard and fast. The forms are reminiscent of bankai you've seen. A golden shower of light that could fly and pierce anything in its path. Spears that could travel long distances. Balls of compressed energy that could whiz out into the sky and explode with tremendous force.

"Why the fuck are you wasting all your time on her?" Grimmjow demands one day, during a conference with the other Espada. In the dimly lit room, everyone shifts in their chairs to look at you, awaiting a response.

"That is a matter between Aizen-samaand myself." You deadpan.

An ugly scowl appears on Grimmjow's angular face. His cyanic eyes narrow in suspicion and dislike. "Does he even know what you're doing?"

"Obviously, considering he's the one behind my orders." But this answer doesn't satisfy Grimmjow.

"You're making her stronger. _Why_?"

"Who gives a damn." Starrk interposes, sounding quite indifferent. If anything, he looks bored sitting in the place of honor and having to listen to the banters of his fellow comrades.

"_Sexta _makes a good point." Barragan rumbles. His battered, wizened face turns to look at you. His ivory crown glimmers under the feeble lighting and juts out from a sea of white hair.

"Even if she does improve, I doubt she'll be a match for any of us." Halibel says, her husky voice muffled by the high collar of her uniform. "Aizen has his reasons for what he's making Ulquiorra do to her."

"Well whatever it is, it better be fucking worth it. I hope she turns against them." A sadistic grin flits across Grimmjow's face. "Especially Kurosaki. That would make one motherfucking priceless expression on his face…getting stabbed in the back by someone like her."

"Pfft." Nnoitra looks away in disgust. "Women ain't good fer anything. Bitch probably won't last five seconds in a fight."

"Oh, I hope not." Syazel cruelly smiles. Regarding you over his glasses, he requests in a most unctuous voice, "When you're done with that little fairy of yours, would you mind handing her to me? I'd like a chance to examine those wonderful regenerative powers she has."

"Her fate is to be determined by Aizen-samaalone, not by you." Zomarri, the seventh Espada, reminds him.

"WHO CARES?" Yami bellows. In his irritation, he pounds his fist against the table, causing it to shake then crack. Starrk rolls his eyes in dismay but Barragan does not let Yami go unchecked.

"Calm yourself." He orders to which Yami responds with a growl of displeasure.

"So I take it that girl's giving you information." Starrk's eyes rove over to you.

You incline your head.

"What'd she say?"

The others, even Yami, grow still like hunting dogs that have just sensed their prey nearby. Slowly, you look to your far right to where Aaroniero Arruerie is sitting, as you know that what you are about to say will be of particular interest to him.

"Kuchiki Rukia is still haunted by the death of her former superior, a shinigami by the name of Shiba Kaien. According to our ward, it appears Kuchiki harbors a lot of guilt."

"Truly…?" The upper half of Aaroniero's mask murmurs. "This should be fun." The lower-half adds.

Your eyes flit to Syazel. "Usually, Kurosaki Ichigo prefers solitary fights but when traveling, he is almost always with Abarai Renji, Sado Yasutora and Ishida Uryū, a shinigami,a human, and a Quincy respectively."

"Interesting." Syazel muses aloud. A smile worthy of Aizen lights his chiseled features. "A Quincy, eh? How very rare. Hmm…" He tents his fingers. "The shinigami and Quincy I'll take but not the human. Humans are so _boring_."

"Who else is there?" Nnoitra's hideously thin lips curl in derision. Like Syzael, he is less than eager to take on such a simple foe.

"Only those five. However," you raise your voice slightly when several voices rise in noisy discontent, "it is likely that several captains will come to Hueco Mundo to assist them."

"And when that happens, _we—" _Starrk lazily motions to himself, Barragan, and Halibel, "—will join Aizen in Karakura Town. The rest of you will stay here to detain the ryokaand the other members of the Goteijūsantai."

"Why only you three to the mortal realm?" Nnoitra testily asks. "Doing that's a lot more entertaining than defending this shithole castle from weak scum."

"We don't make the decisions on who goes where," says Halibel.

"I wasn't talking to you, you cunt." Nnoitra sneers.

"Watch whom you address, _quinto._" Halibel emphasizes the last word with subtle contempt.

"Stop." Starrk warns before Nnoitra can make another smart remark. As though he senses Halibel seething and Nnoitra about to burst, he turns to you one last time before concluding the meeting. "Did the girl tell you anything else?"

"About Kurosaki?" There is a mad glint in Grimmjow's eyes.

Carefully, you regard Grimmjow. Of all the Espada, he has been bequeathed the strongest sense of bloodlust. He is impetuous, to the point of irritation, and seems to have an absurd idea that his strength surpasses your own when he is two ranks below you.

"She did say one thing."

The others lean in.

"If he sees her or any of his friends are in mortal danger, he will fight at all costs to save them even to the point of death. If one of them dies, it's almost certain he will lose his sense of purpose and consequently, his determination to win."

Starrk, Barragan, and Halibel look intrigued by this scrap of information but Grimmjow's reaction is more animated than theirs. He alone seems to understand what you have just given him: a foolproof way of getting Kurosaki to battle with everything he's got.

His face twists into a vicious and cunning smirk, showing his ragged teeth. "Touching…"

* * *

"_Huh...huh…huh…_"

"Get up."

She doesn't respond but lies there on the dune, panting. A half eclipsed moon hangs above her providing the faintest bit of light. Her forehead is glistening with sweat and hairs are plastered to the side of her face. Her lips part but no words come out. Only an unsteady pattern of breaths.

You reach out and pull her up to a sitting position by her shoulders but as soon as you let go, she starts swaying.

"I'm….sorry…" You hear her whisper.

For the past hour, she has been working on maneuvering her attacks but at a price. The effort drains her so that by the end of the session, she is ready to collapse.

"You waste too much power just to change their shapes. Learn to conserve your energy."

"I'm…trying…"

"That's not good enough."

She struggles to respond but nothing comprehensible comes out of her mouth. At once, you realize she is too tired and that she will need a few moments of rest. Not too long, of course, just enough for her to regain equanimity.

You watch her huddled form in the darkness. Her chest goes up and down, laboriously pumping air into her lungs. It intrigues you, how her organs must work so hard to gain one breath, one heartbeat. You would think that humans are nothing more than machines but you are beginning to find, to your dissatisfaction, that they are not as predictable or mechanical as you thought.

Orihime is a prime example of this. You think that being alone and weak, she would be afraid of you but she is not. Her friends are absent and yet she does not despair. Her advancements pain her body but she does not buckle into the pressure nor does she give up.

And the more you accompany her on these nightly sojourns, the more similarities you draw between the girl and Kurosaki. Both of them have untapped potential, it's true, but their powers fluctuate wildly. So much, that their results are often inconsistent. A victory here, a loss there. As of now, you are sure Orihime won't survive a battle against an Espada. She has reached the level to fight on par with numbered Arrancar, but just barely.

Now you find yourself wondering if it would have been better if she hadn't been granted any powers at all. She would have lived a mediocre, ignorant existence without ever having to know what Soul Society or Hueco Mundo was. She was trash, in the sense that she was nothing more than collateral damage, a bystander caught up between this war of Heaven and Hell.

A warm, sweaty hand suddenly grasps your wrist.

Eyes narrowing, you look down to see Orihime on her knees.

"Why do you help me?"

You move to pry yourself away but she refuses to let go.

"Why?"

"You're raving."

"Why do you help me?"

"I told you to get up."

"Why won't you _answer_?"

"If you're unhappy that I assist you, I'll stop."

She shuts her eyes and bows her head. Then one by one, her fingers slip away from you and fall, defeated, onto the sand.

* * *

_Clink. Clink. _

"Please take care of them..." You hear her murmur the all-too familiar words as she overturns her hairpins to you before meeting with Aizen again.

"…they were a gift from your brother." You finish for her with a knowing look.

Her eyes find yours and it seems her fingertips remain on your palm for half a second longer than they should.

* * *

Aizen told you to help her, to make her trust you so you could weasel out valuable information. If that's all he wanted from you, then really, you're finished with her.

You have what you were ordered to get.

Then why do you keep training her?

She's nothing. She's bait. You _know _how this is going to end.

So why won't you stop?

* * *

One day, your curiosity gets the better of you. It starts with a simple question to the girl. Why feel the need to protect her friends? What was the point?

Orihime thinks for a long time before answering you and when she finally does, it's all nonsense.

"Because we're friends. We're connected—all six of us."

"By what?"

"Well…by a lot of things."

"An example would suffice." You coldly tell her.

She looks thoughtful. "Well friendship, that's one. Trust, honor, and…love. I mean, we all care about each other. _I _care about them a lot. It's impossible to feel exactly the same as someone else does but you can treasure your friends and keep them close to your heart." She pauses in her reflection. "I think that's what it means…to 'make your hearts as one.'"

Though you don't show it, you're puzzled. Why do humans always use that expression? The heart? As if the four-chambered organ was designed to be a repository for—what did she call it?—_love_. What sort of stupidity is this?

"You're foolish."

"How am I being foolish?" She asks rather calmly. It seems she is getting used to your passive arrogance.

"Friendships can be severed, honor violated, trust broken, and love can fade. Why do you put so much value in things that don't last?"

A light of comprehension dawns in her eyes and for a moment, she looks as though she has finally solved a riddle that has been bothering her for some time.

"You don't understand."

And for the first time in all the conversations you've had with her, you agree.

* * *

The heart, she says. The heart, love, friendship, honor, and trust are what bind her to the other five. She considers herself the last part, the sixth sliver of one whole.

But the equation doesn't add up. The variables, all of them, are nonexistent ergo the result is rubbish. Your eye sees everything, nothing can escape it, nothing. What it doesn't see doesn't exist. This is the logic in which your mind has always operated and that rationale has never failed you. But the way she _thinks _and her _contradictions…_

She was right.

You don't understand.

But you are determined to figure it all out and that is why, on the day she is to meet with Aizen again about Hogyoku, you decide to get an answer. You weren't ordered to do so but this is more to satisfy your own curiosity than Aizen's.

"Get out." The command rips from your lips when you walk into the prisoner's alcove, unannounced.

Loly and Menoly look stunned by your presence but without a word, they do as you say and scramble out. When they've gone, you stride from the antechamber and into the dressing room. You had never come in here while she was changing. You had never demanded that of her, that is until now.

She has already stepped out of her clothes when you find her. Her bare back is turned to you and her hands are in her long hair. Her usual white garb lay at her feet in wrinkled puddles. Strands of light streak the floor and highlights her left shoulder, a perfect white curve against the dark.

You stand at the threshold, gazing at her.

Then before she can react, your hand is already at her throat and you have her pushed against a wall. Her right arm pinned to the parapet by your other hand, her own splayed out like a pale five-pointed star. She does not struggle when you do this, and wisely so. She knows she is powerless against you, doesn't she?

"Hearts..."

She looks stricken.

"You talk about them as if you have them in your hand, as if you can _see _them." Without letting go of her arm, you relax your hold on her throat. Your fingertips brush her tepid skin as your hand glides down to her heart, its rapid pulse throbbing along your fingers. A thin cage of cartilage, muscle, and bone is your only obstacle from tearing it out and how _easy _it would be.

"If I rip open your chest, will I see it?"

You draw in closer, so close that her breasts graze against your shirt. They rise as she intakes a shaky breath but she does not move nor speak. From her heart, your hand ascends and reaches for her face. The inside of your palm cups her left cheek, your thumb hovers above the grey eye.

"If I crack open your skull, will I find it there?"

Still, nothing.

"Answer me."

You tighten your hold on her wrist, dig your fingers into her hair, spread her knees with your leg. Her nose is just inches from touching yours as you press against her, watching and waiting. There are no limits. You will do what you must to get what you came here for. Even if that means you need to bend a few rules.

One of her hairpins is sliding away, threatening to fall.

You hold her grey gaze even as your thigh leans in further, deeper into an unbearably warm recess. A strange sigh escapes her lips, toneless yet dark. She moves against you and so do you, drawn into this nameless and unfamiliar game. Heat creeps along the hole in the middle of your chest.

And ironically, that's when you get it.

You can't touch it. You can't see it but it is here. It's this weight in your conscience, this pull in your stomach. But this is not enough to appease your rationale and so you look at her, this tangible embodiment of all those proverbial sentiments humans find so important.

_She _is it.

Then just as that realization hits you, her hand caresses your cheek.

Slowly, carefully, you face her.

She is struggling with something, you can see that. Her eyes convey distress, longing. Her fingers dance over to the edge of your mask and gently pull out a few wisps of jet black hair. Then, as if making up her mind, she moves forward and leaves a searing kiss upon your lips.


	6. Legall's Mate

Why did you do it?"

The silence that follows is weighty, cautious even.

"It was the only way to make you understand."

"Understand _what_?" Her ambiguity is frustrating.

"What it's like to be complete."

* * *

.:::*:::.

* * *

You asked her what a heart was.

A million questions were entwined into that single inquiry and somehow, she manages to answer them all with one kiss. And from that kiss, a million more questions and a confusion more profound than the first comes with it. How will she reply you this time?

Here you are, standing at a wall leading into _her _room.

She is interesting, you'll give her that, but prudence must be taken. She may end up puzzling you in a way that you won't appreciate. Or maybe you're reluctant to talk to her again because there is the possibility that you and her will run out of questions and answers.

Then everything would end.

You incline your head as you discern a word or two coming from the chamber. Your hand is flat and spread out, each fingertip pushing against the marble and concrete. She is talking to herself, you guess.

Your fingers brush against the cold surface, running against every ridge and bump. You listen, you wait for her without reason or purpose. With each sound you hear, you translate them into images. Orihime circling her room. Orihime speaking to empty spaces. Orihime lying on her bed in lazy abandon. Maybe she is walking past this very wall.

Slowly, you glide along, traveling with her as far as you can go until at last, you reach the end and let your hand fall over the empty edge.

* * *

.:::*:::.

* * *

On the days when there is no training to be done, you allow an hour's worth of your time to be spent with Orihime.

She doesn't say so but you can tell she is happy when you are there. At least that's what you want to believe. Seeing and believing were two entirely different things and it's hard to pretend she wants you when she is so quiet and solemn in your presence.

In her white chamber, conversations come and go. You and her flit between subjects as a restless butterfly does to a field of flowers. But at the end of every talk, no matter how many silences dot it, the two of you don't come away empty-handed. By now, she knows how to catch those ever fleeting moments when you forget your impassivity. You in turn, can provoke into her extremes. You can make her fall to her knees in despair or _smile _at you depending on what you did. This power is intriguing, almost pleasing in fact.

There is some satisfaction in knowing you have this level of control over her but she is not entirely malleable. There are times when her resolve melts under your gaze and other moments when she is as cold and unyielding as steel.

Like today for instance.

She is conversing about a subject that does not pique your interest but you listen anyway because you're finding the familiar sound of her voice preferable to the sterile quiet of Las Noches these days.

Suddenly, swiftly, you feel a powerful vibe emanating from all four walls. The moment the reiatsu touches your skin, you recognize it and in that instant, Orihime stops talking and when she does that, it's as though clouds have passed over the sun. Her warmth and lightheartedness vanishes in an instant. All that is left is a cold silence, rigid with tension.

For a long time, neither of you say anything until at last you gather yourself together and lock it back inside an iron box. Your countenance hardens and when you catch her eye, you realize that it's over.

They are here.

Her friends, her foolish and insignificant friends, have come for her at last and made her wildest dreams come true. Strangely, you don't know how to react. The most logical feeling to have would have been anger. Their presence is equitable to that of a hand knocking away this perfect but tenuous structure you and her have built these past months. You know she is more than happy at their arrival and if given the choice, she won't hesitate to leave Las Noches at the behest of her friends.

She would go, and willingly.

So where does that leave you?

"Are you going to kill them?" She whispers. Her voice is dry and thin as paper but the look she gives you is one of indescribable desperation and sadness.

You, say nothing.

"Deny it." She begs.

* * *

.:::*:::.

* * *

"A new game, I think."

Idly, you watch the pieces on the board retreat to their default positions. Today, Gin is absent for reasons unknown to you and Kaname has taken his seat. Absent-mindedly curling a stray hair, Aizen sits before his checkered plane. He is content, he is relaxed. The fact that he is waging a full scale war on all of heaven seems to be of no concern to him.

Say nothing, do nothing.

These are the orders Aizen has given when five unremarkable beings enter Hueco Mundo. Their objective is simple enough to understand: they are here for Inoue Orihime and won't stop until she is rescued. You are confident, however, that the Espada will be able to decimate them with relative ease. Grimmjow himself is practically itching to tear Kurosaki into pieces and so are you albeit less expressive about it as the Sixth Espada.

As for Orihime, she is locked securely in her chamber and the chances of her friends approaching it are next to nothing. If they try, you would know. Your room, after all, is just across hers.

"Would you care to join me," Aizen looks across the table to you, "Ulquiorra?"

Had you not been looking at Aizen, you would have thought you misheard him. Slowly, you make your way to the table and take a seat next to Kaname.

"Choose a side."

You cast a thoughtful glance at the board. "Black."

"That leaves me white." Aizen taps the crown of the king piece. He leans back in his chair and says, "We play to win. Don't hesitate to beat me if you see an opening."

He opens up his hands in a gesture of invitation then reaches out to move a pawn up. Kaname inclines his head forward as though he _sees_ the chessboard; his eyes crinkle behind his white blindfold as he listens to the pieces tapping along the black and white squares.

The game progresses in quick fashion. You inch forward a pawn, he lets one of his knights jump out, you advance another pawn, he glides his right bishop along. You scan the board, looking for a loophole. Having watched Aizen play this game for so long, you know his signature moves. By far, the queen is his favorite piece to play with. You've seen him beat Gin several times using the queen to check the enemy king. If you can get that piece away from him, it would cripple him.

"I've been thinking," Aizen wonders aloud as he takes out his other knight, "how best to handle Kurosaki Ichigo."

"Handle?" You traverse your left bishop five squares.

"Of the five, he is the most troublesome." Aizen takes one of your pawns with his knight.

"I doubt he'll succeed with his mission. He'll be dead before that happens."

"But of course." Aizen surveys you with those elusive eyes of his. "You'll make sure he won't lay a hand on your precious princess, won't you, Ulquiorra?"

You freeze in your place, realizing at once something is wrong. There is a reason why Aizen asked you to play a game with him today when he has never done so before. He is displeased with you…no…it wasn't that. It was something else. You had fallen into one of his traps but for what reason, you're unsure.

"Loly tells me you've been very kind towards our ward...you seem to be spending a lot of time with her in her room these days. Now, I hear her powers are improving rapidly under your care."

You don't dare speak or even look up.

"She trusts you, doesn't she? Orihime must think of very fondly of you by now." Aizen continues as though they are having a pleasant conversation over tea. He drums his fingers over the table's edge. "Your move, Ulquiorra."

Still, you do nothing even though you know exactly what path to take. Aizen's queen is open for taking. All you need to do is move your bishop and she's yours.

"Go on." Aizen quietly goads.

Who are you to disobey? You guide the black bishop across the board and knock away the white queen. Aizen watches you, even as you close your fingers over the fallen queen and carry her over to your side.

"After spending so much time with her, I'm sure you've noticed she holds a deep affection for Kurosaki Ichigo? He was the person she chose to say goodbye to, wasn't he?" Aizen glides his white bishop. "Check."

You flick your king forward and immediately, you regret it.

"Imagine," you hear Aizen's voice float beside your ear, "how much she would suffer if Kurosaki was killed right in front of her eyes. Can you picture it, Ulquiorra? Think of how sad she would look, how much hate and despair she would feel towards you."

Briefly, Aizen closes his eyes as though he is savoring this sadistic depiction.

You remain still, ever so still, that one would think you are a statue. Anger flickers inside you like a flame burst into life but you snuff it out in an instant, knowing full well what would happen if Aizen were to sense it. You sit there, locked between Kaname and your creator, realizing what a mess you've fallen into.

All this time you believed yourself to be a free entity but you are no more free and in control of your actions than a pawn on a chessboard. You have overstepped the boundaries and you are going to be punished for it, Aizen will see to that. And he will penalize _her _too even if it was your mistake.

Aizen's lips part and in one swift moment, he gives you your death sentence. "Kill Kurosaki Ichigo, and when you do, commit the act in front of Orihime."

His hand stretches out, casting shadows over the board then lifts his white knight.

"Is that clear?"

Inadvertently, your hands clench over the armrests. "…yes…"

"I can't hear you." Aizen murmurs.

"I understand, Aizen-_sama_."

Smiling, Aizen sets down the final piece with a resounding tap.

"Checkmate," his voice echoes, "Ulquiorra."


	7. Queen Sacrifice

For a desert, Hueco Mundo has become unbearably cold.

You stand atop Las Noches' highest peak among rubble and ash. Your spindly wings are spread out across the illusionary sky, blacking out every bit of sunlight. The air is thick to the point of suffocation with spirit particles. It's not just coming from you. It's from _him _too.

Is this really Kurosaki? You gaze at the tall, imposing creature ahead of you. Something like a primeval, savage expression is fixed upon its horned mask. This is no ordinary human. Your adversary has turned into a full-fledged hollow in _minutes, _literally minutes. And what was the reason for this unexpected transformation?

Your eyes flicker to the far left.

Orihime's face is still wet with tears and rigid with unspeakable fear. Even at this distance, you can see her trembling and sense the cold terror that keeps her rooted to the spot. She is afraid, confused. Less than five minutes ago, she had been keening over Kurosaki's body and now she was witnessing a darker incarnation of him springing into life.

_Help me, _she had cried, _help me. _

Odd, how so simple a request could transpire into something so great and terrible.

_Then again_, you think, _this is not entirely her fault_. You made mistakes too and it's because of them that you've placed yourself and _her _in a more dangerous situation than what you originally intended. In hindsight, you should've never left Loly and Menoly with Orihime. You should've made sure, absolutely sure, that Kurosaki was dead. You should've never let Grimmjow beat you.

But before you can linger on regret, you hear a deep rumble from the hollow beast and though it is incapable of speech, you understand it perfectly. It wants to finish you off, and so you turn your full attention to it. It's too late to reflect on past errors because you're about to pay for them.

Right here, right now.

* * *

_One Day Ago_

_

* * *

_

The ryoka's arrival was nothing short of a catalyst, a flick of the finger sending a series of events toppling over one after the other like a standing row of dominoes. They did not die as you hoped, but continued to survive despite the fact that everything was against them. You even told this Orihime herself and the response you got was a hard slap in the face.

For a moment, for the briefest moment, you wanted to hit her back too.

In that single gesture, she pushed you back to your side and reminded you of all the distinctions that stand between you. She is human, you're Espada, she's a prisoner, you're her captor, she's an enemy, _you're _an enemy, this is war.

When you caught her eye, you saw it—the hate. After all this time, she has finally started to despise you and that slap was just a taste of what was to come. Ordering you to murder Kurosaki with her to bear witness is Aizen's way of ending what he instigated. It began as an experiment and when all the fun had gone, leaving you twisted up with incomprehensible emotions, he decided it was time to pull the plug then sit back and watch the ugly aftermath.

_You _would be the one to directly commit the act and _she_ would hate you for it, not Aizen.

Taking her from the living world was one thing to forgive but murder?

So when you exited her chamber for what was to be the last time, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You would not defy Aizen, no, that was too risky even for you.

You would kill Kurosaki as instructed….just not in front of her.

You knew where he was at the time. He was ambling aimlessly in the east wing which was as far as removed from Las Noches as one could get. Like fast growing weeds, a plan clambered around your mind as you headed towards your new destination. Your footsteps echoed in rhythm, rotating around the drum of your murderous thoughts. You would confront Kurosaki, provoke him into fighting then kill him then and there.

Doing this, you assured yourself, would still be following Aizen's orders. The only difference was—and yes, it mattered—Orihime would never see you do it.

Before you left, you signaled Loly and Menoly to guard the chamber entrance and without sparing another thought towards what they might do in your absence, you vanished.

That was the first of the many blunders you made.

The second mistake you made was not making sure Kurosaki had truly died.

You found him quickly enough and managed to get him to fight you. All you had to say was that you were responsible for kidnapping Orihime and in an instant, Kurosaki had drawn his sword out. The fight that followed was furious but brief, carrying across the desert and ending in the Sixth Pillar Room. You were able to claim victory there in a matter of minutes. Except there was one problem.

Kurosaki would not surrender, even as he was on his knees, bleeding profusely and panting for breath. In defiance, he raises his sword and pricks your shoulder with its tip, stopping you from getting any closer.

"You think I'm gonna give up?" He gasps. His eyes blaze with insolence but what is striking about them, is that they look uncannily similar to Orihime's expression when she hit you. What is it about these humans that make them so infuriatingly stubborn? Even when the odds are all against them, when they are cornered into defeat, they still fight back.

Reminded of the girl, you then ask Kurosaki a question that you once inquired of her.

"What did you really come here for?"

"Isn't that obvious?" Kurosaki spat. "To save Inoue!"

"I beg to differ." You reach for the black blade and clasp your hand over it. The sharp edge grates along your impregnable skin, failing to draw blood. "Didn't you come here to fight Grimmjow?"

The sword slides against your shirt.

"Me, perhaps?" You survey him closely for a reaction. "After all, that girl was never your priority to begin with."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Kurosaki hissed.

"You came here because you wanted to test your strength against the Espada. Rescuing her was just an excuse, a noble cover to hide your real motive. You are no more concerned with her safety than you are with your own."

"_What did you just say?_"

"It seems," you gaze down at him in contempt, "I overestimated your abilities and underestimated your true nature. You did not improve as I had anticipated. You may be weak, shinigami that you are, but your temperament is akin to a hollow. You're selfish, impetuous, and care little for the consequences of others."

You drag Kurosaki's sword downward and instantly, the cloth rips away to expose your chest.

Kurosaki freezes and stares at the number branded on the white flesh. It seems he did not expect your rank to be so high on the chain. "Four…?"

"Yes." You affirm. "I am the fourth strongest Espada."

Then without so much as a warning, you outstretch your arm, lunge it forward like a spear, and thrust it into Kurosaki's chest. The hard wall of flesh and bone breaks under the pressure as you tear through the muscle and reach the heart, passing his left lung along the way. You watch him closely and see his brown eyes bulge out in surprise while his lips turn blue. Slowly, you close your hand over the organ, this thing that you have been so curious about. It pulses against your palm, beating out a furious mantra to live, live, live, live…

"No matter how many times you stand back up to fight," you say in a voice devoid of emotion, "you cannot defeat me and supposing you could, there are still three more powerful Espada than myself. You will never win."

You extricate your hand out, leaving a trail of blood in your wake. With a sick satisfaction, you watch Kurosaki choke out a last, strangled breath then fall to the floor facedown. Blood drips from the ends of your fingers.

"Why," you quietly muse to the dying boy, "does she care for someone like you? Why would she sacrifice herself for your own pathetic sake?"

There is no answer.

"It was pointless of you to come here." You tell him. "That girl is already one of us. Even if you manage to rescue her, that won't change. She's already been corrupted by her sense of inferiority…her loneliness…her grief…and above all, her unrequited love for you."

You know he can hear you. His heart, which you left intact, is still beating though his pulse has considerably slowed. A dark pool widens out from under him, staining his torn robes and limp arms. But he remains where he is, silent and bleeding, and there is no sign of him responding. It's as almost as if he has been rendered speechless at the blistering truths you've spoken aloud to him.

"You're finished, Kurosaki."

In disdain, you turn from him and walk away.

"If you can still move in that condition, I suggest you return from whence you came. If you can't, then die there. Either way, your path ends here, shinigami."

You leave, thinking it is over and that he would bleed to death. There is no need for a final blow, he isn't worth it…

…and how wrong you were, to leave him there for someone to find and heal him.

* * *

_Present_

_

* * *

_

In this brilliant and merciless plan of yours, there had been an unforeseeable mishap that ruined everything.

Grimmjow.

The very thought of him is enough to put you into a low extreme and should you get out of this war alive, you will make sure he remembers his place.

When you returned and saw the gaping hole where the door leading to Orihime's room and the twins standing there, trembling with fear, displeasure like you've never known seized you.

To say that Loly and Menoly failed is a gross understatement. Not only did they lie to you, disobey you, act above and beyond their station, but they laid their hands on the girl. Twice. So when you saw Yami crush them to death with his titanic fists, you did not feel sorry at all. It was, after all, what they deserved.

What happened next?

You made your way back to the Pillar Room to find Grimmjow holding Orihime captive and coercing her to save Kurosaki…and for what? So they could_ fight_.

Naturally, you try to stop this ridiculous event from taking place and end up failing in the attempt. By the time you manage to break out of the temporary prison Grimmjow sent you in, you find Orihime standing alone in the Fifth Tower. Not even ten minutes had passed before Kurosaki came crashing through, fully restored to health and ready to fight it out.

And so it began.

Yours and his swords clash again, again, and again. Sparks fly, skin gets cut, bodies collide, walls crack and crumble around you. _He has gotten stronger_, you think. You wonder if it's because he defeated Grimmjow or because his friends are still fighting in the desert.

Or maybe, just maybe, it's because of Orihime.

That's when you push back Kurosaki, hard, then escalate the battle by breaking through the dome of Las Noches and beckoning him to follow. Because of Grimmjow, that god forsaken fool, you will have to execute Aizen's order after all. Exactly in the manner that he wanted.

How ironic.

For all your attempts to spare the girl from witnessing Kurosaki's death, it had been for nothing. You, the nihilist you are, should have known this from the beginning yet you tried anyway.

Not long after you and Kurosaki reach the dome, things change for the worse and in a series of events that you can't fathom, the latter then transforms into a terrible beast in the likes of which you had never seen before.

The two of you are at a standstill, like twin kings on a chessboard, unable to move forward or back. Orihime is there and so is Ishida but neither make a move to interfere. They too are locked in silence and are drawn into this strange orbit of two monsters circling each other, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

Kurosaki's fighting style has metamorphosed to the point that you don't recognize it as his own anymore. This time he is more savage, brutal, and does not hold back. He no longer uses his sword but his own bare hands, his mouth even, to hurl ceros at you or rip your limbs apart. You don't understand but there is no time to dwell on why or how this has happened. You did your duty to Aizen, you have no obligations to him anymore. You will continue to fight not for him but for your survival.

That is, if you can still make it.

Kurosaki's last cero went through your abdomen, blowing away half of your vital organs. You know you don't have much longer to finish him off and that, above all things, is what you want. In your contemplation, you cast a stray thought to Orihime and wonder if she can still see your face in this hideous, black form of yours. Your hands and feet are menacing claws; the countenance is nothing short of a death mask.

You wonder then, if she is afraid of you.

If you had the choice, if you had your way, _she _would have stayed with you. _She _would have chosen to live out her existence in a world she was never meant to live in. _She _would have betrayed everyone—even the man she was supposedly in love with—for you. All of it would have been for you.

But this is a fool's dream. You tried killing Kurosaki twice and the second time, you put a hole in his body. You taunted her about despair and death. You watched her fall into hysteria. Her screams still ring in your ears with piercing clarity; you can hear the haunting sound of her cries and the anguish that riddles them.

She must hate you so.

And then suddenly, too suddenly, Orihime rises from the ground.

"Inoue-san?" Ishida gets up and puts out an arm to stop her but she walks past him without a word. Her shoes tap and glide along the gritty ground.

You watch her, unsure of her movements. It has been a long time since she last surprised you and this here, on this battleground, seems like the last place for her to do such a thing.

That's when she looks at you and when she does, it is with such a strange expression that you are at a loss to discern its meaning. Then with one cautious, deliberate step she stands between you and Kurosaki. In shock, you gaze at her shoulders angling away until she faces the latter.

"Kurosaki-kun…" You hear her say.

The beast stands still but whether he recognizes her or not is unclear.

"Please," Orihime whispers, "you don't have to do this anymore."

You hear the hollow creature let a low, threatening growl. Its boned fists clench and already, you can sense the impending surge of energy. You glare at Ishida. Why isn't he doing anything? Why does he just stand there? Didn't he realize how much danger she was putting herself in at this very moment?

"It's okay." Orihime softly pleads to Kurosaki's impassive mask. "You don't have to fight. Let's just go home…you and me. Let's get out of here."

"Get back." You coldly order.

She doesn't listen.

"_**You…" **_

You, Ishida, and the girl look at Kurosaki. Up until now, you all had thought he was incapable of verbal communication but somehow the sight of Orihime seems to have awakened an ability to speak.

"_**Help…you…I'll help you…" **_

"You don't have to." Orihime whispers in a broken voice. "It's…this is all my fault. You don't have to help me…you don't…_I am so sorry._"

"I said, get back." You repeat. You step forward to push her away but she turns around and with one gaze, she stops you in your tracks. Her eyes are brimming with unshed tears and there is pain, physical pain, etched into her features. Wordlessly, she returns to Kurosaki.

"Please," you hear her beg, "let him go."

Wrong words.

The beast advances with his claws outstretched but before he can do anything, before Ishida can react, you do the unthinkable.

You move into Kurosaki's direction.

"You can't save me." You stagger towards him, coming closer and closer to death with every step. But what did it matter? It's obvious who the victor is. At the very least, you could prevent the girl from doing something stupid and reckless.

"You can't save me." You repeat to Orihime, glaring at her with a sort of triumph.

It's working. You have the monster's attention now and it's moving away from her. The pointed ends of its horn taper down and to your grim satisfaction, you see a static orb of electrifying energy quickly form. This _cero _is unlike the first few that Kurosaki attacked you with. There is a darker, more sinister note that underlies it. The hit would be swift, powerful of course, and death is unavoidable.

So what if the girl remained alive and you didn't?

She never belonged to you in the first place and now, though it's too late, you realize that Hueco Mundo is no place for one so licit as she. She belongs to the world of the living, to an ordinary, if not happy life, to Kurosaki who can give her so many things that you can't. What you are doing isn't some noble sacrifice. It's simply selecting the most logical decision given the circumstances.

You squarely look into Kurosaki's mask. You want to see it when it happens. You are not afraid and you won't close your eyes to brace yourself. Death is death and it doesn't matter if pain is going to be involved. You may have lost a battle but you will end your life with dignity and by your choice.

"_No, don't_!"

Swiftly, you turn but it's too late.

She is already sprinting, her gait is so quick that her legs seem to blur from the movement. Her hair is flying behind her and her arms are outstretched towards the demon, that horrid thing she wishes to save from irreparable damage. She is screaming, weeping, and suddenly there is light all around her. It glows, igniting her entire body like a moth emblazoned in flame.

You run.

You reach for her, plunging yourself into this terrible radiance and when you grasp her burning hand, you pull her towards you.

The pain is unbearable and it's likely that you won't survive this outcome but you try anyway. Like hell, you will try because what will all this have been for if she dies? That was not a result you were willing to let happen.

A cold lance elongates in your hand and though you are blind, you throw the unstable weapon anyway, in the hope that it reaches Kurosaki and end this battle in one final blow. Then turning your back on him, you grip her to you as the cero runs through you both.

* * *

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Blood.

It runs across your face, your chest, your hands…the smell of copper is so overwhelming that you can even taste it on your tongue. Everything is so blurry, so dark. After a time, your sight begins to clear a little and the first thing you see is a dark puddle.

For a moment, you think it's yours until you lift your head and see a swirl of auburn hair lying in the pool. One of her hairpins is broken and missing a petal or two, you aren't too sure.

Wearily, you move your gaze to the far right. Ishida lies in a motionless heap, knocked unconscious by the blast. It takes you a while to find Kurosaki and when you do, you see him on the ground, a few feet from Orihime. The remains of his mask are scattered around him like broken ice. It is faint, but you can sense a pulse from him, from Ishida too.

But there is none coming from her.

"Even in the end," you murmur, "you never do what I want."

Your hands are ice cold; an ominous sign that regeneration is impossible. There is no hope of living for you and somehow you are glad.

You do not have to deal with this unbearable confusion, this struggle to solve the puzzle Orihime has left you. Why do humans willingly lay down their lives, even if it's against reason, for such inexplicable causes? Why is it so worth it to them, this thing called a heart? That emotion named love.

Quietly, slowly, you reach out for Orihime's hand even though she is too far, even though she will never return the gesture. Still, you reach for her anyway, even if she is dead, you want to recreate that feeling, that epiphany you had when she kissed you so very long ago.

You touch her fingertips.

_Oh, _you think, _I get it. _

Tired, you lay your head on the ground, pressing your face against her blood and letting the viscous liquid stain your lips. Smoky ash curls at your feet and gradually you begin to fade, first the wings, then your feet, your legs, your upper body…

_This is it…_

… _this here…_

The curve of your mouth widens as you fall away in ashes and it isn't long before the wind catches you.

You are weightless, no longer tethered to this world and unaware that Ishida and Kurosaki have woken.

You can't see the caved-in look on their faces when they find you missing and see her body.

You can't hear Kurosaki screaming as he lifts Orihime into his arms or Ishida asking him over and over again, _what have you done? _

You can't feel Kurosaki's horror and his bewilderment at his actions.

Then before you ebb away into the atmosphere, a breeze rushes down and carries Kurosaki's voice. It echoes throughout the desert, traversing across the sands until at last, it is lifted to the empty sky above in the hope that one day, some day, a merciful God will hear his cry and grant his miserable prayer for absolution.

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_I envy because of the heart  
I glutton because of the heart  
I covet because of the heart  
I am prideful because of the heart  
I sloth because of the heart  
I rage because of the heart  
Because of the heart...  
...I lust for everything about you_


End file.
